


Twelve Legend of the Seeker Short Stories

by musesmistress



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesmistress/pseuds/musesmistress





	Twelve Legend of the Seeker Short Stories

### Almost Anything

Zedd grinned, he felt completely and utterly stupid dressed as a woman, right down to the corset, and was starting to reconsider this plan to save Kahlan. Maybe he should have made Richard dress up as the mother, or even Richard should have dressed up as the princess and Cara as the mother, either seemed like a better idea right now. But, alas, now was the worst time to re think the plan, a little late to be second guessing when you're in the middle of everything.

Problem was, one wrong move to turn the whole plan upside down and inside out and Zedd had little to no idea on how to be a woman. Then again, he doubted Richard knew any more than he did, but at least he didn't have to put up with a guy staring at him from across the room, dressed like this, he knew the flirting and suggestions would come soon. He didn't want to think about where that would lead, there was only so far a man could go dressed as a woman to save the Mother Confessor. Somewhere along the line he'd have to make himself known as a man and a Wizard. That was when things would go horribly wrong. They'd just have to keep going and keep their fingers crossed.

They'd stepped into the building about twenty minutes ago and not one person had called their bluff. No one stopped as pointed at him and said "that woman is a man". It seems that everyone believes him to be female. Zedd wasn't sure if that was because he was more feminine than he thought of if Cara was that pretty everyone was so focused on her they hadn't paid him that much attention. Something had to give soon, either that or given proper motivation, almost anyone will believe almost anything.

\---

### Bond Like No Other

Bound by leather and blood. Cara couldn't get it out of her head, she'd seen something written somewhere that says "bound by blood" but she couldn't remember now what it was for, but for some reason it made her think of the other Mord'sith, her sisters of the agiel that she no longer spent time with. Sometimes she missed them, and other times she was happy not to be just like them, driven by the need to control and torture, always looking for bloodshed and violence. Those parts she only missed on rare occasions these days, but she had to admit, she did long for the sisterhood that came with being a Mord'sith.

Knowing that another woman had your back and thought the same way you did, dressed the same and held your morals was comforting. Like having a blood sister, who wasn't actually related to you. There were times when that felt stronger than having a family member protecting you. Cara had to confess that having Kahlan around helped a little and as time had gone on they had created their own bond of friendship and respect. But it wasn't and would probably never be the same as a Mord'sith bond.

If only she could dress Kahlan as a Mord'sith, perhaps she'd feel a little more comfortable with her. But then again, she'd never be able to respect her the way she does. She would never be bound to Kahlan Amnell in leather in blood. Kahlan had a different type of strength, one Cara was learning to respect and had often used herself as a way of getting what she needed. They had learned a lot from each other.

But still, having a sister of the agiel and feeling the power that came with being a Mord'sith could never be replaced. Like being bound by leather and blood.

\---

### Fear of the Con Dar

Kahlan took a deep breath. She hated the feeling of the Con Dar, she hated the name blood rage almost as much, but the feeling of it was the worst. It always started the same, her blood rushing through her veins, moving fast enough that it felt as though it was boiling until it seemed to set fire to her skin. Red hot flames seemed to ripple through her from head to toe and back again until it reached her eyes and ignited. It was frightening to feel, frightening to been over taken with the pain of it as well as the fear and anger.

Anger was a given, pure absolute rage at whatever was going on, at someone or at the situation she was in. She remembered feeling the rage against Cara and wished she'd never felt that purest of hatred for the woman. Most of the time she wasn't completely aware of her actions, the people she confessed, the things she made them do and how easy it was to just kill them, taking their life without so much as a thought. That's what brought on the fear. It was like being thrown head first into an unknown magical fire. Would you be burned, or would something much worse happen.

She hadn't expected it the first time it had happened, and she hadn't expected that she'd turn on Richard with dark eyes of hate. But he was the only thing that would calm her. The soothing sound of his voice, the fact that he was there and the way she never saw real terror in his eyes. He trusted her never to hurt him, never to give in to the fear and confess him. She wished she could trust herself that much sometimes. It was the only thing that made her panic when she was trapped in the Con Dar.

One day, she would learn to control it.

\---

### Hunt

Cara groaned silently and pressed one of her hands as hard as she could to the wound in her thigh. Her other hand held the knife she just pulled from the cut. She was still ready to fight, but this fight was over.

She had won and her attacker was lying in a pool of blood a few yards from her. She knew very well that every fight came with a price, but this time the price was high. Her pride. She hated being incapacitated, and she hated asking for help even more.

Her sisters of the Mord-Sith knew what true pain was and how to deal with it. If one of them was injured she would be taken care of by the others. That's how the order works. But she was no longer Mord-Sith. She was cut off from her sisters. She was weak and somehow the pain was deeper then she remembered.

She was losing blood quickly. There was a steady stream running down from her wound all the way to her boots. She sighed and kept pressure on her thigh while she started limping back to the camp. Now the only place where she could get help.

\---

### Leather

Getting re-dressed was one of Cara's favourite moments of the day. The smell of her leather outfit gave her strength. It made her feel proud of being a Mord-Sith. Even now that she was separated from her sisters, she still liked wearing her leather outfit. The clothes applied support in exactly the right way and still provided her with flexibility to easily win a hand-to-hand combat. Even the colour was perfect. It was red brown and meant for training purposes, but better suited to blend into the forest than the white leather. 

With a smile on her face she pulled herself in the tight leather, enjoying the soft crackling and tightness around her body. Slowly she pulled the lace and clasped her outfit as tightly as possible. It was a part of her. It could be defined as torturing herself, especially on sunny days when the heat became searing, the leather burning her skin. No matter how hard the endearment was, the leather had become a part of her life and it was a part she secretly enjoyed.

\---

### Magic Rabbit

"Here bunny, bunny," Cara whispered as she watched her trap from a short distance. For over a minute a bunny hopped around the trap, it seemed a smart bunny. "Take the apple so we can have a spicy rabbit stew."

Cara rolled her eyes, she was starting to become impatience. Whenever she was in a hurry, things were bound to go wrong. "Bite the stupid apple!" She growled while taking out her agiel. "You will regret it when I need to come and get you." She waved her agiel. "Sit still bunny." Slowly she approached the creature, but she was still quite a distance when the rabbit hopped away.

"Drop dead." She pointed her agiel demanding at her feet and out of nothing a cooked rabbit dropped on the floor. It took another eye roll before her mind settled. "Hmm."

Cara pointed her agiel sturdy at her feet again. Nothing happened. She repeated the movement and added the words again. "Drop dead."

Poof!

Another cooked rabbit appeared. "Hmm," she smiled. This was going to be the easiest dinner in weeks.

Quickly she put her cooked prey in a bag and headed back to the camp.

"You're back quick," Zedd said. "You were either successful or couldn't even find something to hunt.."

"Better," Cara gleamed and turned her back around. Two cooked rabbit dropped out. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

Zedd shook his head. "You know I can't use magic for my own benefit."

"Just asking," Cara replied and pulled her agiel. "Drop dead."

Nothing happened. Cara rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing?" Zedd asked.

"Drop dead," Cara sighed. "I knew it was too good to be true. But I swear both rabbits dropped from the sky like magic."

Zedd raised his brow, "Well you never know with magic. It can do strange things."

"Like climbing in a tree?" Richard laughed. "You should have seen Cara's face when I dropped the rabbit down.

"What," Cara said and pointed her agiel in Richard's direction.

Richard smiled. "It was fun and you asked for it. Here bunny, bunny?"

Cara rolled her eyes and turned around. "Next meal is on you as well, seeker."

\---

### Natures Magic

Westland was a lush land, small and warming and beautiful to anyone who stepped into the area and stopped on the highest mountain to look down at the valley. The range of green trees and wild flowers of every colour stood wide and far and would almost conceal the town of Heartland in its mist, almost. To the trained eye, several houses stood alone, mostly buried in the woodlands or up rocky paths to the top of cliffs. In the spring, the fresh smell would follow wherever anyone went, reminding travellers that there were flowers to avoid stepping on and tingling the senses just enough to make you smile. Animals nested or buried themselves in their homes, coming out only to find food or to investigate strange noises.

Most of the trails to Heartland were clear and easy to follow, open and well trodden roads that weaved around tall trees and lined with wildflowers that reached across the path hoping to snag at the heels of those who passed by. The canopy high above blocked the sun just enough, leaving enough light to travel by and keeping the shaded areas cool from the summer sun. There was no magic here, but sometimes it seemed as though the life that bloomed everywhere was a magic of its own.

In contrast, the Midlands seemed completely opposite. Vast and treacherous and in places just as green and inviting as Westland. Mountains rose high and looming in the distance, capped with white snow and always ready to look down at someone passing along the base or trying to follow the pass up and through. It wasn't one land, like Westland, it was many lands, hundreds of different cultures and thousands of people in green lands, deserts and cities so large and filled they seemed overwhelmed with its numbers and ready to burst at the seams if just one more person passed through the gates. It still had its wonders though. The spring and summer would open the wildflowers, bringing out their glorious smells and colours to set against the browns and greens of the many trees. Animals still built nests and buried holes for homes wherever they could find a safe place, a place where people's feet wouldn't trample them or disturb their rest.

The trails were larger, longer and always well travelled and patches in forests and fields told tales of the various people who stopped to rest in the dark. The flowers here didn't reach across the paths, they were smart enough to know they'd get trampled by feet, hoofs or cart wheels that passed by, or picked by little hands tired and bored of the journey. There was magic here, but still nature seemed to have the upper hand. Beautiful and pure, clean and clear and just as inviting as the forests of Westland.

\---

### Noms

He could hardly contain his excitement, dancing around the campfire, hopping over Kahlan's legs as he moved past her on each circuit and waving his arms like a mad man. At least, Richard thought he looked like a mad man and he suspected that Kahlan and Cara would agree with him.

"Is it ready yet?" Zedd paused and asked impatiently, he'd asked twenty times in the last five minutes and Richard couldn't help but smile as Kahlan laughed and shook her head.

"Almost."

That one simple word had the potential to get the old Wizard dancing again and Richard watched as he gave Cara a rather large smile in attempt to counter her scolding look.

"Just one more minute," Kahlan said, giving their stew another stir before reaching for their bowls.

Zedd's little celebration picked up and he twirled around the fire to stop like an eager kid next to Kahlan and bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited.

"I've never seen anyone celebrate stew so much," Cara said, moving to sit on the other side of Kahlan.

"It's lamb," Zedd said sounding more like a child by the minute. He began to bounce again as Kahlan spooned the first portion onto his bowl. "We haven't had a stew this good in years." Cara scoffed as he grabbed the bowl and shoved a spoonful in his mouth.

"You'd celebrate vegetable stew and spiced soup," Cara pointed out as Kahlan handed her a bowl.

"I celebrate all food," Zedd said. "Especially when we don't know where the next meal is coming from," he added, pointing his spoon in the Mord-Sith's direction. Richard just shook his head as Kahlan handed him his meal and sat down beside him.

\---

### The Next Confessor

Saria looked up at the white tower in awe, she and her sisters stood at the base, long hair and dresses fluttering in the wind. Saria, being the oldest, had been brought up as the next mother confessor and as a result wore white to her sisters black dresses and the white palace they stood at, was their new home.

Their father, Richard Rahl, had died on the journey here, their mother years ago with the birth of the youngest sister. But this was where Kahlan Rahl wished them to be.

The Confessor Palace in Aydindril. And here they were.

\---

### The Painful Truth

Richard heaved a sigh as the realisation sunk in. Truth was a painful journey. Since becoming the Seeker of Truth he had suffered more than he had helped, or at least it felt that way sometimes. The cuts and injuries they suffered on their journey were the easiest to deal with, even the pain of using the sword held no candle over the real pain that came with his duty.

Losing his sight or even coming close a few time to losing the lives of his friends, to losing Kahlan, was a painful endeavour, something he wouldn't wish on his enemies. Having his freedom taken from him in order to finally get his hands on the Stone of Tears had hurt more than he would ever like to admit. But through it all there was one thing that kept coming back to him.

Nothing was more painful that watching the suffering of others.

He would give up his sight if it meant that a woman would have one more day with a man killed protecting him. He would give up everything in his life if it meant he would never have to see a woman weep over the death of a child or sister. He would even turn Kahlan away, send her back Aydindril with Cara and Zedd if he thought for just one second that it would help protect the world from the evil he had to fight. But he knew it wouldn't matter. Evil was coming and there was nothing he could, nothing he could surrender that would save people that pain.

He would have to continue his search for the truth, for peace, and take the pain that came with it. The truth was a painful journey and there was only one way to end the suffering. Find that truth.

\---

### The Tazbek

Richard stepped to the edge of the lake and fiddled for a moment with the straps of everyones water skins. It had only been a few minutes walk from the camp, but still they had managed to tangle together. As he bent, movement from his right caught his attention and he turned his head as he held the skin under the water. There was nothing there and after quickly checking his surroundings, Richard turn himself back to filling their water skins. He was just finishing with Kahlan's when he caught the movement again and turned to find a fluffly creature sat on the bank beside him. He couldn't help but smile, it looked like nothing more than a ball of fluff. He wondered for a momet if it was someone's pet dog, but he couldn't see a snout, just two huge eyes and a set of protruding fangs. It made a high pitched squeek, and turned its eyes on richard.

"Do you belong to someone?" He asked, not expecting an answer. The creature let out the squeek again. "Kahlan would love you, you'd be her little fluff-ball." it squeeked again.

Richard capped Kahlan's water skin, slung the strap over his shoulder with his own and grabbed Zedd's and Cara's skins before standing up. As he turned the creature turned with him and Richard chuckled.

"You can come too," he promised and started walking slowly towards camp.

He watched it, surprised, that its stubby legs could move as fast as they did and before he realised it, he was stepping back into camp.

"I found a friend," he said, drawing everyones attention to him. It was Kahlan's step back that caught his attention.

"Richard," she said, almost in warning. "You need to slowly move away, come over here."

"Why? It sat with me at the lake. It's halmless."

"That's a Tazbek, it's anything but halmless," Cara said, moving to stand almost in front of Kahlan.

"A what?"

"A Tazbek, they bite everything, they can take a man's foot off in one go," Kahlan explained.

Richard couldn't believe it. "No, it's halmless." He tuurned and bent and all three of them scream at him, but it was too late. The Tazbek's mouth opened wide and his long fangs sunk into Richards wrist. The paid made him jerk back and instantly the beast let out a long high pitched whine.

"We need to go," Zedd said. "That one is only a baby, its parens are almost three times its size." Richard didn't argue after that and they grabbed their stuff and pelted from he the camp.

\---

### Two Storms

Kahlan sat at the mouth of the cave, her back against a rock that jutted out the side wall and watched the lightning streak across the sky. Behind her, Zedd was complaining about the way Richard cooked the rabbit they'd caught before the storm hit and Cara was pacing the length of the cave like a caged animal. She let it all wash over her though. She liked thunderstorms, they were strangely calming to her, the rain cooling the air, the flash of light that brought a momentary glimpse into the soundings and the rumble of the clouds clearing the air. It was beautiful. A lot better than listening to the argument going on behind her.


End file.
